


Different Kind of Love

by naasad



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Autistic Enjolras, Cuddling & Snuggling, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Meltdown, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 15:42:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15911280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naasad/pseuds/naasad
Summary: When they were in Kindergarten, Combeferre had gotten a pet rabbit. Enjolras had been terrified the animal would replace him. Acrushwas a much more credible threat.





	Different Kind of Love

**Author's Note:**

> Jsyk, I am autistic. Any stereotypes you find are how I actually react to stress, so please, no flames, well-intentioned or no.
> 
> Also, believe it or not, this was inspired by the one line in Lilo & Stitch _"And you like me better as a sister than as a rabbit, right?"_ With that as the core of it, I really waffled with whether or not I wanted to have them get together in the end but my OTP (out of many, many OTPs in this fandom) won out.

Combeferre was humming.

Combeferre didn’t hum.

Enjolras hunched more protectively over his studying. He really was doing poorly lately, and he needed to get through his routine if he ever wanted to pass. “Could you stop that? I’m trying to focus.”

Blessedly, the noise cut off. A few minutes later, a cup of peppermint tea slid into his frame of view – their signal that he’d done something hurtful.

Enjolras sighed and saved his work before walking to Ferre’s room. “What did I do?” he asked.

Ferre patted the bed and scooched over, running his fingers through Enjolras’ hair as they made themselves comfortable. “I was humming because I was happy.”

Enjolras sipped his tea and cuddled closer. “I’m sorry I told you to stop being happy. That’s not what I meant.”

“I know. But I also know you appreciate it when I tell you.”

That was an understatement. The more accurate version was that Enjolras loathed it when he _didn’t_ tell him. “Why were you happy?” Enjolras asked.

Combeferre smiled. “I think I’m in love.”

“Oh,” Enjolras said. “Like true love? Or like a crush?”

“I don’t know yet,” Combeferre said.

“Oh.” Enjolras took a drink of tea.

Back when they were in Kindergarten, Ferre had gotten a pet rabbit. All he talked about was that rabbit – Pickles. Enjolras had been terrified that the animal would replace him. A _crush_ was a much more credible threat. And he wouldn’t stand a chance against a _true love_.

“I’ll go,” he finally said.

“What?” Ferre asked.

Enjolras shrugged. “I need to go.” He needed to leave. It always hurt less when he did the leaving. Usually, he went to Combeferre afterward. He needed to find a replacement for Combeferre.

He closed his bedroom door behind him and slid to the ground, burying his face in his arms. Everything was Wrong.

He heard Combeferre clattering around in the kitchen until about midnight. He waited a bit longer until he was snoring and snuck out to Courfeyrac’s with a change of clothes, his favorite blanket, and his laptop and phone.

“Enjolras?” Fey asked when he knocked. “What are you doing here?”

Enjolras played with the strap of his backpack. “I need to go,” he said, clinging to the last bit of sanity he had left.

Courfeyrac let him in and made up the sofa bed. “Are you and Combeferre fighting?”

Enjolras shook his head. “No.”

“Good,” Courfeyrac sighed in relief. “I don’t think I’d ever be prepared for that. You two are practically joined at the hip.”

Enjolras wrapped his blanket around him and curled up around a pillow.

“What’s wrong?” Courfeyrac asked.

Enjolras opened his mouth and then closed it again. Maybe it was Courfeyrac who Ferre had a crush on. Maybe Combeferre wouldn’t want him to know anyway. He had to be on his best behavior if he ever wanted to even see Ferre again. “Everything,” he said instead. It was the truth.

Courfeyrac blinked in shock. “Well,” he said, standing awkwardly. “I’m here if you need me.”

Courfeyrac wouldn’t make a good Combeferre, Enjolras thought sadly as he walked back to his bedroom. He didn’t make him talk. And he was too energetic. And he didn’t snore.

Enjolras didn’t sleep that night.

He never slept well away from home.

_Was he still allowed to call it home?_

The next day was Saturday. Courfeyrac always went Out on Saturdays. Enjolras stayed as late as he could, then packed up his things, knowing that when Fey came back, he’d probably have company.

He went to Feuilly’s. He was closest.

“Combeferre’s worried about you,” Feuilly said.

Enjolras hunched further over his bag. “I need to go.”

Feuilly stepped back and let him in. “Why do you need to go?”

Enjolras shrugged. “I need to go.”

Fee gave him a Look. “Okay,” he said. He directed Enjolras to the spare bedroom and went to his own bed for the night, citing an early shift in the morning.

Feuilly would _almost_ make a good Combeferre, Enjolras thought.

He went to Joly’s next.

“Is everything okay?” Joly asked.

Enjolras shook his head. “I need to go.”

Bossuet raised an eyebrow. “Are you and Ferre having a fight?”

“No,” Enjolras said. _Why did everyone ask that?_

He slept on the floor of Musichetta’s sewing closet.

Bahorel was next. He didn’t ask questions.

Enjolras still hadn’t found a new Combeferre.

Grantaire was too noisy, drank too much alcohol, and his attic apartment smelled too much like paint.

Jehan wasn’t noisy enough, drank too much tea, and their studio smelled too much like plants.

Out of options, Enjolras went back to his own apartment.

Ferre was sleeping on the couch and woke up when he walked in. “Hey, you’re back,” he said, looking for his glasses. “Did you find what you needed?”

Enjolras shook his head, stubbornly willing his brain to work for just a few more seconds, just long enough to get to his room and barricade the world out.

“Well,” Ferre said, “I’m here if you need me.”

Enjolras shook his head, and then he found he couldn’t stop. “No,” he managed to croak out.

“No?” Ferre asked. “You don’t need me?”

“No!” Enjolras reached up and grabbed fistfuls of his hair, shaking as tears he couldn’t stop streamed down his face.

“Hey,” Combeferre said. He grabbed the weighted blanket off the back of the couch and threw it over Enjolras’ shoulders.

“No,” Enjolras sobbed, clutching the blanket close, letting Ferre ease him into a sitting position. “No, no, no, no.”

“I’m here,” Ferre said, standing close but not touching. That was good, that was their routine.

Enjolras sobbed and tipped forward, letting Combeferre catch him – figuratively and literally – for what was probably the last time. “No,” he gasped.

Combeferre hesitantly wrapped him in a hug, subtly readjusting them until Enjolras was laying against his chest, listening to his heart. “I’ve got you.”

“No,” Enjolras wept, finally coming out of his meltdown. “No, you won’t.”

Ferre rubbed his back. “Yes, I will. Always, no matter what. _Ohana_ , remember?”

Enjolras pounded his fist against the wood. “Stupid blue alien.”

“Hey.” Combeferre caught his wrist and pulled it around him. “Don’t hurt yourself. Squeeze me.”

Enjolras obliged, holding him tight. He never wanted to let go. “Stupid,” he muttered.

“What is?”

“My stupid, stupid brain.” That was it, wasn’t it? That’s why Ferre fell in love. Combeferre only likes smart people, he’d been struggling lately, so that’s why Ferre didn’t fall in love with – “Oh.” Enjolras sniffed and pulled away, wiping furiously at his cheeks.

He wanted Ferre to fall in love with him. That’s what was Wrong.

But Ferre didn’t fall in love with him, he would’ve told him. He knew these things had to be said plainly or he just wouldn’t get it. Ferre fell in love with someone else and someone else was eventually going to ask Ferre to move in with them and cuddle them and make them peppermint tea that didn’t mean they’d done something bad, it probably meant that he loved them. He loved them, and not Enjolras, even though Enjolras loved – “ _Oh_ ” – Enjolras loved Ferre.

Combeferre went to the kitchen and made tea. Not peppermint.

Enjolras stood and shuffled over to the couch, thinking hard. He didn’t want a new Combeferre. He wanted the old one.

Eventually, Ferre made his way to the couch and sank down, handing Enjolras a mug. The Special Mug, which was filled with The Special Tea.

“You made it Special,” he murmured, holding the cup close.

“You’ve had a bad week,” Ferre said softly. “I figured you could use it.”

Enjolras took a careful sip. The Special Tea was only for Special Occasions – like an A on a test or a new award. “Why?”

Combeferre shrugged. “You don’t need a special occasion for special things, but special things can make any occasion special.” He sipped his tea slowly. “You came back.”

“I had to,” Enjolras said.

“Did you want to?” Combeferre asked shrewdly.

Enjolras nodded, then shook his head. “Both.”

Combeferre shrugged. “That’s the way it is, I guess. Why did you have to go?”

Enjolras ducked his head. “I always go first.”

“Enjolras.” Combeferre reached over and squeezed his shoulder. “I’m not leaving.”

“Not yet.” Enjolras set down his teacup and wrung his hands, cracking knuckles and twisting fingers. “Who do you have a crush on?”

Combeferre smiled wryly. “I’m not sure you’re ready to hear.”

“Is it Courfeyrac?” Enjolras asked. “Courfeyrac’s nice.”

 _Courfeyrac’s nice, but he’s not you_ , that’s what Enjolras had said when they’d first met Fey and Ferre had asked him if he wanted him to be their friend. He hoped Combeferre would say the same thing now.

“It’s not Courfeyrac,” Combeferre said.

That was close enough.

“Eponine?”

Combeferre laughed. “It’s not Eponine.”

Enjolras frowned. “Do I get a hint?”

“One question,” Combeferre said, grinning playfully. “One question I will answer completely honestly, except for their name.”

Enjolras thought hard to come up with a damning question. “Where do they live?”

Combeferre blinked, seemingly caught off guard.

Enjolras smiled. _Got you._

“With me,” Ferre said softly, so softly Enjolras almost didn’t hear.

“Oh.” Enjolras curled up tight. In the less than a week that he was gone, Ferre had gone from uncertainty to living with the person. He tried to school his face and body. He always projected what he was feeling, he knew that. The trick was to fool yourself into feeling total apathy. He probably should’ve done that earlier. “When did you move out?”

Combeferre sighed.

“Oh, I’m sorry. You said only one question.” Enjolras curled up tighter, wishing he could vanish, wondering – “What did I do wrong?”

“What?” Combeferre asked.

Enjolras wiped his eyes. He thought he’d finished crying with his meltdown, but there was a burn that told him he hadn’t. “Was it because I left? You didn’t know if you loved them before I left. Did you know because I was gone?”

Combeferre stammered.

“I can handle the truth,” Enjolras said.

“Yes,” Combeferre said slowly. “Yes, but not for the reasons you think.”

Enjolras straightened his mouth, set his chin on his knees so it couldn’t wobble. “I’m sorry.”

Ferre sipped his tea.

Enjolras sniffed and wiped his eyes on his jeans, burying his face in his knees as his voice cracked. “I’m sorry I made you leave me. But I’m sure they’re better – better than me or Star Trek or Pickles. And they’ll listen to you and they won’t say hurtful things on accident and they’ll love you and – and they’ll let you hum when you’re happy and probably they’ll know what song you’re humming and sing along. And they won’t make you leave them because they’ll be better than me because I’m only your friend and friends mess up a lot, okay? I just still want you to be my friend. And I’m sorry, I know I said I could handle it, I thought I could, but I can’t.”

“Oh, Enjolras,” Combeferre set down his mug and wrapped him up safe in his arms. “Is that why you left?”

Enjolras nodded. “I know you’ll be busier, so I had to find a new you, that way I didn’t bug you.”

“Did it work?”

Enjolras shook his head.

“Good,” Combeferre said firmly. “Because I’m not going anywhere. I thought you left because you figured it out. I was so worried, but that just made me realize.”

“I’m sorry,” Enjolras sobbed. “I’ll never make you worry ever again. Just don’t go. I know I’m being selfish, and I’ll try to be better if you want, I just don’t want you to go.”

Combeferre kissed the top of his head and tilted his chin up gently. “Can I look at you for a second?”

Enjolras tried but he ended up staring at his earlobe.

On the edge of his vision, Combeferre smiled anyway. “I love you.”

“I know.” Enjolras leaned back into his shoulder. “Friends love each other.”

“Yes, but sometimes that love changes. Becomes less or more or different. I think I’ve maxed out on my friend love for you, so now it’s turned into something different.” Ferre ran a hand down his spine and pulled him into his lap. “Enjolras, do you know the Greek words for love?”

Enjolras nodded, curling up like he always did when Combeferre held him this way. “ _Storge, eros, phileo, agape, ludus, pragma, philautia,_ and others.”

“Yes. So, when we were in Kindergarten, I _phileo_ -d you. When we were in high school, I _storge_ -d you. I’m not sure that’s the right use of the word, but I loved you like family. And now I _pragma_ you, and I kind of _eros_ you, too.”

Enjolras looked up in shock. “I… _pragma_ you, too. I realized just a little bit ago. That’s why I don’t want you to leave.” He wrinkled his nose in distaste. “I don’t know if I _eros_ you, though.”

Combeferre laughed. “That’s okay, that part’s optional.” He leaned forward and bumped their noses together. “And I _agape_ you, too. No conditions, okay?”

“Okay,” Enjolras agreed. “I _agape_ you, too.”

“Can I kiss you?” Combeferre asked.

Enjolras thought for a moment and straightened up so he was straddling Ferre’s thighs. “I’ll try it,” he said, eyeing his wet lips with a modicum of distrust. “Sounds slimy.”

Ferre laughed and leaned forward, cupping a hand around the back of Enjolras’ neck and pressing their lips together. His lips were firm and soft, and surprisingly not slimy. They tasted like The Special Tea and felt better than his favorite blanket. When his tongue prodded at Enjolras’ mouth, though, he pulled away, shaking his head.

“No tongue?” Ferre asked.

“It’s weird,” Enjolras said. He scrubbed at his eyes. “Can I take a nap and we talk more about this later? I’m peopled out.”

“Am I a people today?” Combeferre teased.

Enjolras narrowed his eyes. “You’re like… half a people. On a scale of no-one being zero and Courfeyrac being five.”

Combeferre nodded. “Can we take a nap together? Just sleeping and cuddling in the same bed.”

Enjolras stood and held out his hand. “My bed.”

Combeferre grinned and pressed their lips together once more. “Lead the way.”

Enjolras paused and turned around. He bit his lip. “I _ludus_ you, too.” And then he ran for the bedroom, knowing Ferre would be right behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> I know pragma (enduring love) is used more often for couples that have been together for a long time, but these guys have been such close friends for long enough, I feel it's appropriate.


End file.
